At the Break of Day
by Cassandra Mulder
Summary: He thought he had dragged her, but maybe she had simply followed.


**Title: **At the Break of Day**  
Author: **Cassandra Mulder  
**Written for: **wendelah, who wanted X-Files, any pairing but Scully/Krycek, and possibly lyrics/a prompt from Leonard Cohen's _Anthem_  
**Pairing: **Mulder/Scully  
**Rating: **PG  
**Word Count: **1248  
**Written: **June 23, 2008**  
Disclaimer: **All things X-Files belong to Chris Carter, 1013, and Fox. No infringement is intended. I have nothing but love for you guys.  
**Summary: **He thought he had dragged her, but maybe she had simply followed.  
**Author's Note: **I'm a pinch hitter, so with mi vida loca, this got done in about three hours. Also, I literally have not written X-Files fic in about, oh, I would say seven to eight years. So at nearly five in the morning without a beta reader, I hope to God this is passable and the recipient likes it. I apologize for being late, but technically since I haven't slept, it's still Sunday to me. ;) Also, it's post-_Memento Mori_, which is my favorite XF episode ever.

* * *

_The birds they sang  
at the break of day  
Start again  
I heard them say  
Don't dwell on what  
has passed away  
or what is yet to be_  
- "Anthem" by Leonard Cohen

There were a lot of things left to do at the clinic, but Mulder didn't even wait until the sun had come up before he insisted on taking Scully home. The place was crawling with federal agents and agents from organizations he didn't even recognize and didn't want to contemplate right now.

All he could focus on was getting her home where she would be safe; at least, safer. She had ceased to be safe a long time ago, and he blamed himself for that. He often loathed himself for many reasons, but none so much as dragging someone as bright and brilliant as Scully down into the darkest depths of his world.

He thought he had dragged her, but maybe she had simply followed.

Scully sighed as she punched the end call button on her cell phone. She had somehow gotten her mother to agree to pick up her car and drive it down to DC for her so Mulder could take her home. She had protested that she could just as easily drive herself, but she let him win rather easily. She had a feeling he didn't want her out of his sight for awhile, and she was all right with that. She would never admit it, but the failed treatments and sitting with Betsy through the night had left her exhausted and possibly more emotionally drained than she had ever been.

She wasn't sure Mulder was in much better shape from the looks of things, but if he wanted to drive, he could drive. It didn't feel like she could hold her head up much longer anyway.

What she desperately needed was a long, hot shower and a scalding cup of coffee. She figured they could find the coffee on the way, but the shower would have to wait for home.

She rolled her head and shoulders as she let her robe fall to the floor, and she quickly grabbed slacks and a shell from her overnight bag. She pulled out a jacket for later, just in case Mulder ran the air too cold in his car, and set about dressing as comfortably as possible for the ride.

Mulder chewed his lip out of habit as he impatiently walked the halls waiting for Scully to emerge from her room. He didn't know what he was going to say to her about the events of the night. He didn't know _how_ to tell her. She had so many other things happening to her at the moment that he didn't think adding to it was going to help anything. Besides that, his anger at what they had done to her - what they had stolen from her - was enough for them both. He was going to have to process it longer than a few hours before he could tell her without losing it, one way or the other.

She knew he didn't see her as he stood at the end of the hall looking out the window. It looked more like he was staring off into space, and after only a moment of musing at his profile, she cleared her throat.

"You ready?" he said.

Scully raised her bag. "Absolutely."

"Then let's hit the road," he said, walking to meet her and taking her bag without question.

He helped her get settled in the car, and she wished she hadn't stumbled on a rock a foot from the door so he could make it into something else.

"How are you feeling?" he asked just as she was about to doze off.

"I'm fine, Mulder."

He stopped himself before he could follow up with 'are you sure?'

Scully was allowing all the coddling she could stand to make him feel better. She was just exhausted enough to forgive things for which she would normally smack him.

She still had her head back, but she opened her eyes to see the dawn breaking on the horizon. The sun was bright, but it didn't hurt her eyes like lasers or fluorescent lighting. She was just grateful to be free of those things however long she could make it without the necessity of them.

Mulder couldn't stop looking at her out of the corner of his eye, like she might disappear at any second. The last week had not been the first time he had been faced with the threat of losing her forever, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. But each time made him more and more certain that being without her was a more terrifying prospect than anything he could imagine, as many horrors as he had seen. She was the single entity on earth that made it possible to keep his head above water, to make sure he didn't go as insane as the rest of the world already thought he was.

If she ceased to exist, he was afraid he wouldn't be too far behind.

"I'm going to be fine, Mulder," she reiterated, and saw the corner of his mouth twitch at her mind reading.

"You keep saying that."

"Because it's the truth."

"I believe you, but that doesn't necessarily make it the truth."

She sighed. "I already told you, Mulder. I am going to fight this, and I'm going to live and work, just like always. They did this to me, and I'm going to find out why and how."

"We," he said.

"What?"

"_We_ are going to find out, Scully. Don't think I'm not with you one hundred percent on this, because I am. We're going to find out what happened to you, all of it." He still couldn't tell her what he had already discovered.

"We," she said pointedly, "can't worry about what might happen. All we can do is fight, Mulder. It's what we always do."

He had the passing thought that they always seemed to lose, too, but he wasn't about to verbalize it. Instead, he reached over and clasped her hand tightly in his. "I know. Now get some rest, and I promise not to ask you how you're feeling again till at least the beltway."

She laughed and shook her head. "If I'm asleep by then, I will shoot you."

"And I'll make it up to you by making you coffee and getting you breakfast as soon as we're back at your place."

"Who says you're invited in?" she teased, for what felt like the first time in a long time.

"You know better than to turn down the best coffee on the east coast and a free breakfast. I'm not worried," he teased back.

"Good. Then I'm not either," she said. With a faint smile on her lips she finally gave into her fatigue and closed her eyes to sleep.

Mulder held her hand all the way home, hoping the tether connecting her life and his was more than a temporary hope or a lie they told themselves to keep it together.

As the sun fully rose and he pulled into her lot, he hoped the new day was a new chance to start over and stop making the mistakes he seemed to always make with her. When she lazily rested her head on his shoulder as he walked her in, he was filled with the rare feeling he could make it right. For once, she was the faith to his logic, instead of the other way around, and he laughed quietly at how far they had come and how far they had yet to go.

Finis


End file.
